


cool spring

by JeanSouth



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Omega Verse, have i ever led you wrong before, i do not go for simpering whiny bottoms, trust me on this one guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-25
Updated: 2014-10-25
Packaged: 2018-02-22 14:54:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2511701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeanSouth/pseuds/JeanSouth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tsukishima Kei manages not to get stuck in the rut of Hollywood-driven, over-romanced Alpha/Omega relationships by pure luck and by having the numbers on his side. For a while. Luck runs out, eventually. Must be the mirror he broke when he was seven.</p>
            </blockquote>





	cool spring

**Author's Note:**

> do please note tsukki is still a teen whereas oikawa is a legal adult in this, in case that's not up your alley

Tsukishima thought he might scream, which was both extremely embarrassing and highly unlike his usual character. High school was bad enough as it was; everywhere around him he had to deal with obnoxious gasps at his height, and unfunny jokes that he was surgically attached to his headphones.

He had only thanked every god he didn’t believe in that alphas at his school were rare, even in relation to the low numbers of them to start with. Less than five percent of the population, with omegas turning up in similarly low numbers. Genetic anomalies for no good reason; Hollywood liked to speculate, and the bond between alpha and omegas was obnoxiously romanticized to the point he never mentioned his own unfortunate genetics, and there had been no alphas to find out so far.

Until his second year brought a new math teacher and a former volleyball prodigy eager to stick his nose into their team. And as Tsukishima’s luck would run, an alpha.

The alpha’s nose twitched when he strutted into their math class for the first time. He had nice, fluffy hair and looked like he might have been a model if not for the way he looked like he couldn’t be serious even if he was paid for it. His eyes locked on Tsukishima for a minute subtly, while he unpacked all the materials he would need.

“My name is Oikawa Tooru,” he said eventually, straightening up with a bright smile. He scribbled out his name on the chalkboard in a hand surprisingly neat for a teacher. Maybe with age it would deteriorate; he was plenty young and had the female students halfway in his pocket. “I’m twenty-four, my hobbies are volleyball and cooking, and I’m single!”

He paused to let it sink in, the corners of his eyes crinkling with his amused smile when half a dozen boys buried their faces in their hands, faced with another obstacle to overcome before approaching the girlfriend of their dreams.

“Oh!” he added, loudly, to catch their attention. “ _And_  I’m an alpha, looking for the omega to fill the other half of my heart!”

On queue, the girls swooned, excitedly scribbling notes to pass back and forth as soon as his back was turned. Alphas like him were the reason half the young romance novels featured terrible bound-by-fate, love-on-first-sight plots. Tsukishima sighed, rested his chin on his hands, then went completely tense, earning him a look of worry from Oikawa.  _Volleyball_.

-

“The new teacher is weird,” Tsukishima sniped out in the middle of practice, unable to bare Nishinoya’s incessant chatter about how cool alphas were, and how Daichi should have been one. He stopped mid-sentence, rounding on him with Tanaka.

“You’re only saying that because he’s an alpha and you’re an omega. I bet you’re just pretending to dislike him  _because_  you like him,” Tanaka pointed out, leaning in far too close. Over the past year, he resented how well they’d gotten to know him, and saw things he wouldn’t admit to himself, like the curiosity the terrible romance movies had stirred in him, and how they’d made him wonder for years if Alphas truly were undeniably irresistible, and if he would find one that felt like everything slotting into place.

Every other book said a different thing; some ruthlessly cut down rumours and claimed an alpha and omega ought only meet to soothe a mating heat, where others waxed romantic that from the first heat sated by an alpha, they would  _know_  if they were the one, and never get back the pieces of souls traded between them.

“If he liked Tsukki back, that would make him a pervert,” Kageyama piped up from gathering the volleyballs. Tsukishima appreciated small mercies, and the shaky but long-standing alliance that had sprung up between him and Kageyama after an evening of bonding over being tall, surly teenagers bullied by the rest of the club.

“I don’t think Oikawa is that way…” Hinata protested, seemingly fond of their new teacher, and saying his name seemed to have summoned Oikawa from whichever dark pit Tsukishima was certain he spent most of his time in, waiting to pounce on unsuspecting students. He wouldn’t let his guard down, he decided. As Oikawa came in, he grabbed one of the volleyballs, jump-serving it to Hinata, who spiked it for Nishinoya to block. Tsukishima almost rolled his eyes; the two idiots would be immediately fond of him.

“Hello!” Oikawa called out, until the first years perked up and came to investigate too. “I’m going to be helping out in training from now on. I used to be a setter, too, and I still play a lot. My high school team won nationals twice, and in my first year we came second, so my credentials should be pretty good.”

He tilted his head to the side, making his fluffy hair bounce with the movement.

“He’s too nice,” Kageyama murmured darkly in his ear, rolling his eyes when Oikawa continued talking, offering any of the team a chance to challenge him to show off his moves. “I bet he’s like a nougat, with a hard, smiley shell and a liquid centre of pure evil.”

Tsukishima turned just in time to catch the barely-there smile on Kageyama’s lips, proving fleetingly he wasn’t entirely void of a sense of humour. As soon as his speech was finished, the first years anxiously milled about, unwilling to challenge their newest coach.

“Back to practice, then!” Tanaka called, hands on his hips, cackling faux-evilly as the rest of them scrambled. Tsukishima bent to straighten up all the water bottles knocked over at some point, and tensed at the hand on his lower back. The scent of alpha flooded his senses and he grimaced, displeased by the way he couldn’t pinpoint any of the reasons it annoyed him.

“Tsukishima Kei, was it?” Oikawa questioned, his hand slowly slipping off Tsukishima’s back when he stood up, lingering only briefly.

“Yes. Class 2-4.  _16 years old_.” He stared pointedly at Oikawa, taken aback by the shameless smile that curved his lips. They were quite full and looked soft.

“Age isn’t important if you feel that spark when you’re mating,” Oikawa countered, and offered him a slow, warm smile before he turned back to the court, watching each of their players for a moment.

As he watched, Kageyama tossed; his perfectly controlled toss allowing for Hinata’s jumping power, their spike only barely caught by the blockers. For a few minutes, he carried a monologue.

“I used to hate geniuses,” Oikawa confided in him, sitting heavily on the bench behind them, hands cupping his chin. He seemed to wait, to see if he had Tsukishima’s attention. “I always worked so hard, but they could match me without even trying. I had to work twice as hard and exhaust myself to even touch on their level. I hated it. My only goal was to see them fall to my team.”

He stopped for a second, sighing, then smiling at Yamaguchi’s serve. For a moment, Tsukishima wondered if Hollywood might not have it a  _little_  right, and fate placed compatible people together. Oikawa would understand his bitterness…

“Eventually, we kept winning,” Oikawa smiled, but it wasn’t as happy as he had expected. “But I wasn’t really having fun. I was too bitter… too focused on how much I hated their natural ability. I was so jealous and proud I couldn’t enjoy our victories.”

He glanced at Tsukishima from the corner of his eye, patting the bench next to him until they were sat together instead.

“Slowly, I stopped hating them. It was hard, but it wasn’t their fault they were geniuses… Once I let go, and practised for the joy of winning and working with my team, I was a lot happier.”

Tsukishima stayed for a second, pretending to clean and inspect his glasses.

“Why would you tell me that?” he asked, unfamiliar feelings churning around his gut. Oikawa laying bare one of his scars was completely unexpected in contrast to the smiling, confident teacher who had captured the hearts of half the students.

“To let you know you can trust me,” Oikawa smiled at him, and it made him look his age. Eight years wasn’t a big gap. “Not all alphas are geniuses who excel at everything, and have no feelings but pride.”

With that, he pushed himself up from the bench, and found Yamaguchi first, leaving Tsukishima alone with his curiosity and the uncomfortable feeling that he may be able to like Oikawa.

-

After that, he tried not to think of Oikawa, which proved to be more difficult than anticipated. He had math every other day, and nine out of ten times, Oikawa showed up to practice.

“You’re staring, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi informed him with a slight shake to his shoulder, drawing him out of his reverie of wondering what Oikawa was like at home. Did he cook? Tsukishima thought he would like it if Oikawa cooked, but not all the time. He wondered if his hair flattened after a shower, leaving him an inch shorter and sort of adorable.

“Thanks,” he shook his head, and bowed out of practice for a few minutes to splash water on his face. The past few weeks had been odd enough, but the past few  _days_  had been a nightmare, his focus entirely shot to hell and his body refusing to cooperate, waking him up throughout the night, sweating and uncomfortable.

He ran the tap until it felt freezing, sticking his wrists under the cold spray, then dipped to do the same with his face. It helped less and less every time.

“Should you be in school?” Oikawa was behind him, frowning, concern clear on his face. His arms were folded over his chest. Nice arms. Tsukishima wanted to see him play a match.

“Why shouldn’t I be?” he countered, drying his face off with paper towels and slipping his glasses back on.

“By the smell of you,” Oikawa stepped in closer to him, nose pressed to the crook of Tsukishima’s neck. “You’re going into heat today or tomorrow. Do you really want to risk going into heat in the middle of practice?”

His frown deepened as he took another deep breath, hands tightening for a second on Tsukishima’s waist until he stepped back slowly, a clear bulge in his trousers that drew Tsukishima’s attention both by sight and smell; Oikawa’s frustrating scent amplified tenfold by arousal.

“I didn’t know I was going into heat,” Tsukishima admitted begrudgingly. There was a lot about his own biology he didn’t know and hadn’t ventured into, and his extended family boasted no other omegas to help him. “What happens now?”

He hated to ask, and Oikawa looked torn between two answers before he settled on one, looking slightly disappointed.

“A lot of masturbation, I guess,” he shrugged, running a hand over his face. “You’d be satisfied for a few hours with a knot, but… without it, most omegas use knotting toys. I’m gonna guess you don’t have one, though…”

The idea of sex toys turned Tsukishima’s face red, but by the time he would find some online and have them delivered, his heat would be over.

“And if I wanted your help?” he watched Oikawa grimace, hand drifting to his cock to try to relieve some of the pressure.

“You’d only have to call. You have my number from the daytrip last week,” with that Oikawa fled, a slight limp in his step, and Tsukishima wondered how bad it could really be.

-

How bad it could be, it turned out by Wednesday, was very. His brother hadn’t stopped laughing since Monday evening, and Tsukishima was plagued by constant arousal and unrelenting thoughts of the way Oikawa had smelled aroused and ready to knot him there on the spot, if only he’d asked for it. He slipped his fingers inside himself, grateful that his odd biology made it easy and slick, and grasped his cock again. Every time he did, it felt less satisfying, and it was becoming harder to make himself come.

He rolled over, face buried in his pillow, and tried to chase away the thoughts of Oikawa leaving the choice up to him, of Oikawa talking to him openly and frankly, and of Oikawa not treating him like he could take having sex with him for granted. It made him  _want_  Oikawa to fuck him. Gritting his teeth, he grabbed his phone and found the right number.

_Can I come over?_

_Sure. Here’s my address._

_-_

Oikawa had a nice house with two potted plants by the front door, and a brass knocker he ignored in favour of ringing the bell three times, slightly hunched over with the need for anything, for  _something_  to relieve him, only slightly soothed by the sound of Oikawa running to the door and dragging him inside, only barely holding himself back.

He looked flushed, nostrils flared and his fingers dug into Tsukishima’s upper arms.

“Are you  _sure_?” he insisted, looking like he was ready to lock Tsukishima out, even if it pained him to do so. “Not just because you’re in heat?”

“I’m 90 percent sure,” Tsukishima laughed, slightly strained, and stepped in closer himself, his heart fluttering in his chest at the look of pleasure that swept over Oikawa’s face. “You’d better make my morning after good.”

Smiling at his faked confidence, Oikawa took the stairs two at a time, Tsukishima’s hand in his own, leading him to the bedroom, saturated in the scent of Oikawa full of hints of the times he’d pleasured himself. And no one else, Tsukishima realized with a possessive sense of joy.

He tugged his hand free to strip, no teasing but only urgency until he could crawl on the bed, staying on his hands and knees to tempt Oikawa into coming closer, faster. The bed dipped when he crawled on too, pressing a kiss to Tsukishima’s lower back.

“I love how you get slick and loose,” Oikawa moaned out, two fingers rubbing over Tsukishima’s well-fingered hole before slipping in for a few seconds, the feeling clearly driving him over the edge until he lined himself up, his chest to Tsukishima’s back, begging a kiss and permission to enter him.

“Just hurry up,” Tsukishima pushed his hips back, the tip of Oikawa’s cock bumping against his hole before he thrust forward, penetrating him deeper and deeper before the faint start of a knot bumped against his hole. Oikawa begged more kisses from him as he thrust in and out, eventually grinding forward to slip the beginnings of the knot at the base of his cock inside Tsukishima.

It felt… good. Bigger than his fingers and bigger than Oikawa’s cock, swelling slowly inside him until he felt full, the knot pressing and rubbing against his prostate where Oikawa kept grinding into him, his hands curling around Tsukishima’s cock to drag him over the edge and make him come.

He groaned as he felt Oikawa’s cock pulse inside him, releasing all of his come until his legs gave out and he nearly collapsed to the side, keeping Tsukishima spooned close to his chest.

“I’ll keep coming inside you for a few minutes,” Oikawa’s fingers rubbed at his nipples, teasing them gently. “Then when we’ve had some time, I’ll fuck you again, okay?”

He sounded sated and pleased, pressing even closer until it felt like he’d wrap Tsukishima up and no let him go again.

“We’ll have to stop to eat eventually,” Tsukishima felt suddenly shy at the blatant affection, and basked in the sound of Oikawa’s laugh.

“In the morning, I’ll make you breakfast in bed, with my famous omelettes and salmon,” he promised, and it was a very large step towards a good morning after.


End file.
